What's the point?
by BlackbAngeL
Summary: Post NFA, in a destroyed Los Angeles. Angel's POV. One shot, and BA all the way! 1st in the Apocalypse series.


**Disclaimer:** Yes, I own Angel. He's currently cooking my dinner, wearing nothing but an apron… (sighs)… If only. But unfortunately, no, I don't own him, or Buffy for that matter. They're property of ME, Joss whedon & co, and they're terribly unhappy.

**Author:** BlackbAngeL

**Summary:** Post NFA. One shot. Angel POV. That's all you need to know. Oh, and, it's B/A, all the way!

**Distribution:** Fanlib(dot)com, my board "Slayer's Council" (blackbangel.actifforum(dot)com)… other than that… Want. Take. Have. Just tell me where it goes.

**Note:** I needed a break from Broken Heroes… But don't worry, I'm still working on it! I wrote it tonight, and it's not beta'ed, so, all the mistakes are mine. Sorry.

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So, that's it. That's how it's gonna be, from now on… Sleep, feed, fight, sleep. Every day, of every week, of every month. What else could I do, anyway?

Is there even anything left to fight for? I wonder, sometimes.

What have I done?

I thought I knew for sure… I thought it was the solution, the way to end the deaths, the destruction, the pain… I was a fool. Two hundred plus years old, and only now do I figure out that you don't end a war by starting it. What was I thinking?

Is that what Cordy wanted me to do? I don't think so. I should have understood, I should have thought about it… That vision she gave me, it wasn't an advice, it was a warning. A warning of what I had to prevent. But I was so eager to get rid of Wolfram and Hart, so willing to show that I was worth more than what they thought I was, that I focused on the wrong purpose.

And what did it bring me? More death. The end of every hope I might have had for the future… All for nothing.

Wesley believed in me. In what I wanted to do. And he died for it… I think he welcomed it, to a certain extent. Fred's death hurt him hard. The loss of what you love more than anything will do that to you… I know the feeling. But he should have lived anyway. The time for him to realise that his life was still worth living, and there were still things worth fighting for. It's hard, and takes long, but at one point, you learn how to deal… If I could understand that when it happened to me, he could.

But I didn't give him that chance, and just sent him on a stupid suicide mission.

Along with Gunn. And Illyria. And Spike.

I killed Drogyn… turned one of my friends into a cold-blooded killer…

And all for what? For that?

I really should have known. Seriously, did I really think that we would win? Sure, we got rid of every single member of the Black Thorn. But the Senior Partners were still there. And we really pissed them off.

We thought we were gonna die in that alley, and that they would leave after that. We saw that army of demons running toward us, and we fought, we killed as many as possible. Gunn died first, then Illyria… Who knew she would be one of the first ones to go? She was supposed to be indestructible. She wasn't. Just like the rest of us.

Spike lost an arm, but kept on fighting. Or at least, I think, because I lost him after a while. I don't think he died, honestly. I would know it. But he left.

The demons, however, are still there.

The truth was, they didn't give a damn about us. They fought and tried to kill us because we were there… But what they wanted, ultimately, was to take over the world. Starting with L.A.

And they did. Thanks to me. I thought I was gonna weaken them… I didn't. I started the end of days. We tickled Evil a little too much… And all Hell broke loose.

Los Angeles is in ruins. It reeks of death, and sickness, and old blood… Infection, dust, and rotted water… It smells like Hell. And I should know it.

There are bodies everywhere. People crying, trying to go away, trying to understand… I don't know what rational excuse the government came up with, but I doubt people will believe it. They finally opened their eyes and realised that the world they thought they knew was just a lie, and that their worst nightmares were real… L.A's just the beginning. I heard yesterday that it has reached San Francisco, and is spreading through California

And so I'm here, doing the only thing I can do… Trying to make things better. I fight, I kill, I save persons who are probably gonna die anyway, maybe only a few minutes after I rescued them.

What's the point? I don't know. But somebody told me once that I couldn't give up, and that I had to fight. When I would forget that, somebody else would put me back on the path… I can't betray them now.

It's been a few weeks since that battle in the alley behind the Hyperion. I know Connor is okay, I convinced his family to go away for a while… Now, they probably won't come back, and it's for the best.

I met some people who were trying to fight. Who were trying to regain control of their lives… A lot of them will die soon… But it doesn't stop them. I supposed it's just human nature. Survival instinct. At least there's still some hope for the world.

I'm standing on the roof of one the few remaining buildings of the city, staring at the streets below. At the hundreds of homeless who are trying to find some peace, the families who are mourning the loss of one of their loved ones, the young lovers who are clinging to each other, craving for some warmth and some comfort… The children who have lost everything before even learning to speak, and are crying in the arms of people who will take care of them no matter what… The fact that they are strangers doesn't matter anymore. Humanity is forming one single front. Who knew the Apocalypse was the only to make them see past their differences? I would laugh at the irony, if I was able to…

Right now, I feel more like crying.

I'm so engrossed in my own thoughts that it takes me a while to realise that I'm not alone on the roof anymore. Someone is standing behind me, I can feel their eyes on the back of my head… Maybe some thief who wants to steal my coat, or my shoes… Money doesn't mean anything anymore these days.

I choose to ignore them. Whoever that might be, he, or she, will make their move or leave. I don't want to have to talk.

And given that I haven't fed in a few days, I don't want to feel that temptation.

I hear footsteps, light, a woman probably. Only when she almost reaches me do I catch that familiar scent. Vanilla, and something particular that I can't describe, but that's uniquely her.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. I don't want her to be here. I don't want her to see me like this, or to blame me for what I did. I want her away, safe, and happy. I want her in my arms. I want her to hold me. I want her fighting by my side. I want her.

I don't know what I want.

"You know me, she says, I'm always where there's trouble. Something about a sacred duty, or a destiny, or I don't know what…" Her tone is light. A nice change, after all these days of hearing nothing but tears or bitterness, or the chaos of my own thoughts.

I don't reply, waiting for her to continue. I know she will.

But she doesn't.

I sigh.

"Listen, Buffy, I…"

"Don't." She cuts me off. "I don't want you to explain yourself. I don't want you to tell me to leave, because I won't. Nor do I want you to escape from me."

She walks closer, but I still don't look at her.

"I'm here because that's where I want to be. I'm a fighter, Angel. I'm a Slayer… where there's evil, I'm supposed to fight. It's in me, and I can't turn my back on… that."

I can hear a tinge of sorrow in her voice. I wonder briefly how she managed to find me here, or to even enter the city. But then again, it's Buffy. There's not much she can't do, when she's set her mind on it.

"I've tried to come here for weeks. Ever since I heard… I understood. The government said something about an illness, and gangs, but I'm not stupid. I've lived on a Hellmouth long enough to sort through the lies."

She's probably going to ask me why I didn't call, or how I found myself into this mess. I hope she won't. I don't want to explain. And I might say things I'll come to regret. She's the one who didn't trust me, after all. Can I really blame her? I don't know. But it stings, anyway.

I'm still not talking, but she's not really waiting for me to.

"Spike contacted me. A few days ago… A phone call. How he got my number is beyond me, but that's not the point. He's further north now, met a group of fighters, and he helped them… They are trying to prevent the… problem… to reach Seattle" she says in a blank voice.

Seattle? It's worse than I thought it was. Yesterday they were only in San Francisco. I'm not sure I want to know where they'll be tomorrow.

"He told me what happened."

I open my mouth, ready to tell her to stop. I don't need to hear her tell me that I shouldn't have acted the way I did…

"I'm sorry, Angel."

And I stop. There are tears in her voice. I start to turn around, trying to look at her…

"I'm sorry for making you think I didn't trust you, I never thought Andrew would…" She takes a sharp breath. "I shoud've been here."

I can finally see her face, when she steps in the faint light provided by the street below. A tear is glistening on her cheek, and I want nothing more than to kiss it away.

But I don't.

"It was my fight, Buffy, and you know it." It's lame excuse, and I know it.

"No, I don't know it."

She's beside me now, her elbows resting on the edge of the barrier. She's been through a lot, I can see it in her eyes, in her stance… Gone is the young golden girl I fell in love with. A sadder and somehow, more mature version of her took her place.

And maybe I love her even more.

I want to reach out and touch her, and maybe I do, because before I know it, in a blur of blond hair and hazel eyes, she's in my arms, her hands buried in my hair, and she holds onto me like she's afraid I'm gonna fade away. I can feel her hot tears on my neck, as I hold her tightly against my chest. I don't know how we ended up in that position, but I don't care… I want to stay like this forever. I feel like the whole world suddenly fell silent, and it's nice, for once, to feel that peace.

"I thought you were dead, Angel" she says between her sobs. "Spike told me he didn't know if you had made it through the battle, and all I could think about is that you thought I didn't trust you, and that maybe if Andrew hadn't said that I would've been fighting by your side…"

I tighten my hold on her waist, slightly lifting her up, and with her arms around my neck, her feet are barely touching the floor. She weighs next to nothing… I had forgotten that.

I try to whisper some nonsense in her hear, I don't want to see her cry. It's Buffy, she supposed to be that bubbly girl who wanted nothing more than to live her life, and whose aura could make a graveyard shine.

She calms down, and I want to tell her that everything will be okay, but the words won't come out. The lump in my throat I can't seem to swallow prevents me from saying it. So I just hold her.

She pulls away after a while, slightly, just enough to be able to look in my eyes. I could lose myself in those orbs… I can't see their color in the darkness, but I know they must be green… They're always green when she cries.

She rests her hand on my cheek, and the contact of her skin on mine sends shivers down my spine. Her tears have dried, but I can still see their traces under her eyes… Her lips are only inches away from mine …

And the next thing I know, she's kissing me. Or maybe I'm kissing her? I don't really know who started it. Does it matter?

I don't want that moment to stop. I never thought I would see her anymore, I never thought she would come to me… and I was starting to be okay with that. I had lost hope, over the years. Tried to love others. Tried to forget her, and to move on… Only to realise that no matter how hard I tried to lie to myself, she was always there, just under the surface of my thoughts… Her face, her skin, her scent, her kisses… it's tattooed on my heart. Everything always comes back to her, one way or another. Sometimes I'm not even aware of it.

But the only thing that matters at the moment is the feeling of her lips on mine, her hands on my neck, my head, my shoulders… my hands on her back, in her hair… I can feel her presence now, in each one of my cells. I had buried her deep, and she's coming back to the surface, reclaiming my love. As if it was even a question…

The world is ending around us. My friends are gone. People die, every second… Children are tortured, women are raped, and Evil slowly crawls its way into our lives…Because of me. I don't think I'm ever going to forgive myself that mistake.

Nothing is ever gonna be okay… We're gonna fight, we're probably gonna lose some battles, and we're gonna hurt.

But I'm not alone anymore.

I know I should send her away. I should tell her to live her life, to stay away from here, from that madness. But I can't. I can't lose her, I can't let her go… I need her here. I guess I've gone selfish, after all this time alone. Besides, it's not like she would listen to me anyway…

When she finally pulls away, gasping for air, I rest my forehead against hers. I'm not sure I'm ready to let her out of my arms just yet.

"I came with a few slayers… Faith is waiting for us outside of the building" she whispers. "I think she took bets with Rona and Lauren on how long it was gonna take us to come out of here".

I chuckle, a foreign sound in my own ears. I stroke her cheek, still not really believing she's back in my life for good. She kisses the tip of my nose, and takes my hand, finally stepping out of my embrace. I try not to let her see my disappointment. I fail.

She grins at me, leading me towards the stairs.

"Come on" she says "We have a war to win."

And I follow her. I think now, I know there are still things worth fighting for.

Now, I see the point.

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